


I Google You

by MoragMacPherson



Category: Stargate SG-1, Supernatural
Genre: Challenge Response, Comment Fic, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-26
Updated: 2010-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-12 05:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoragMacPherson/pseuds/MoragMacPherson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam Winchester can't get that night out of his head.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Google You

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel/companion story to _[Play It, Sam](http://archiveofourown.org/works/121379)_ , from the Supernatural crossover comment meme twisted_yarns. Title from the Amanda Palmer song of the same name.

Sam couldn't keep that night out of his head. There were so many ways it could have gone wrong but somehow it went spectacularly right. And at the center of it was Sam, who'd seen through him before he'd even noticed she was in the bar. Trapped him and disarmed him but hadn't turned him in. Not that he hadn't been nervous: as soon as she'd shown her cards he'd started clearing his bottles away and discreetly wiping his prints off of every surface, he wasn't looking to get caught in Colorado again. But after that first game, he couldn't bring himself to walk away, had to know what kind of a woman could make him so careless that she'd been able to swipe the magazine out of his gun before he could move a muscle. He hadn't told his brother that part: Dean would never have let him hear the end of it.

It turned out Sam wasn't a demon, she was just seriously smart. And well-trained. And sexy as all hell. He'd hadn't believed her when she first mentioned her age, somewhere in her mid-forties, but it wasn't like she hid it, tried to deny it or cover it up with make-up or clothes or surgery. She didn't feel the need to impress anyone but took control of the room as soon as she walked in. Sam had the feeling she didn't notice the effect she had on people. Every time he'd gone to get them drinks, another one of the staff or customers had pulled him aside to threaten him if he did anything to hurt her. The bartender had been particularly explicit and creative in her threat and Sam crossed his legs at the memory.

And then he hadn't wanted the night to end, had suggested raising the stakes half-expecting her to turn him down flat and... yeah. The rules of the game said he'd won but the truth of the matter was that she'd played it so he didn't lose. Afterwards, well - neither of them had been willing to give up much ground in the bedroom either but had fought each other into a mutually satisfying middle-ground. And then, because youth did have its perks, one of them being endurance, Sam had gone above- well, below technically - the call of duty to make sure that she was satisfied. Then kept at it for one more because he wanted to be really sure that he had the last word in this one little thing. It was petty, maybe, but he didn't think she'd minded.

Less than two hours later he'd been forced to leave in a hurry by a call about a possible woman in white who'd accelerated to four kills in two months up in Wyoming. It would take him all day to drive up there and try to do all the research before sunset. While gathering his clothes he'd picked up her jacket and the magazine had fallen out of the pocket. It didn't even occur to him to take them. She'd said, _You can ask for these back when you leave,_ which meant he had to ask. And, well, there was no waking her up, something he'd been too smug over to be annoyed about at the time. So he'd dashed off that note without thinking, dressed, and headed out. About thirty miles north of Denver he'd realized that he'd assumed there'd be a next time. It had taken him awhile longer to admit it was because of how much he _wanted_ there to be a next time.

Now, two months later, with Dean back in the game, Sam was starting to consider it seriously. But he had to do some research first, couldn't go into the situation blind again. In this day and age, looking up your crush on the internet didn't raise any eyebrows, it was common sense, part of how you got to know people. Sam blinked and tried to forget that he'd just thought of her as his crush. Definitely needed to make sure she wasn't a witch or something, that's what he was doing. He had plenty to go on: there was no doubt in his mind she was military-trained and probably career. Most of their conversation that hadn't revolved around pool had been about physics and math so he figured her work also involved science somehow. That close to Colorado Springs, he checked the Air Force Academy first. He checked for Samanthas among the science faculty and high-level administration but didn't find any. But the Academy wasn't the only Air Force installation in the area - there was also Cheyenne Mountain and he'd heard all sorts of stories about what went on there. Hunters were, as a group, paranoid, and some of them became real conspiracy theorists. One night at the Road House this guy named Rudy had spent four hours explaining that the government knew all about the supernatural and were breeding a hybrid race of werewolf super-soldiers at Cheyenne Mountain - Area 52 he'd called it. He had the records showing billions of dollars disappearing at Cheyenne for years now, and an abnormal number of deaths of Special Forces members and even scientific advisers dying in freak accidents. Sam had listened politely and laughed with Dean about it afterwards. Still, they did some kind of research at the facility and the secrecy surrounding it might explain why Sam was so careful about giving any kind of personal information and why she was so alert to her surroundings.

He looked up the public page and started reading. It was just the usual public relations stuff, he expected he'd have to dig deeper. But the top line of the last paragraph about the current base commander caught his attention. He wasn't going to freak out, click the link first, Samantha's not the least common name in the world. The link had a picture, though, and the picture left no doubt. He looked up the name Samantha Carter and found her C.V.

Dean found him about a half hour later, still staring at the screen. "What's got you all hot and bothered?" asked Dean after failing to get Sam's attention until he snapped his fingers in front of his brother's face.

Sam cleared his throat. "You know how I told you about the woman who caught me hustling pool out in Colorado a few months back?"

Dean smirked. "Yeah, your new thing for cougars. You still obsessing about her? I know you're new to the whole one-night-stand thing, man, but lesson number one is learning how to let them go."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea," mumbled Sam.

Dean tilted his head, now actually concerned. "Shit, man, what happened?"

Sam looked down. "Looked her up."

"And? She dead or something?"

Dean had that note in his voice so Sam didn't bother trying to hide it any longer, just handed over his laptop. "No. Found her."

Dean started reading. He leaned closer. He laughed. "Shit, Sammy, you bagged a general!" Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder. "A sexy cougar general. And you say I've got issues with authority figures." Sam glared at Dean who hopped backwards to dodge Sam's fist. "No, seriously man, now I've got to meet this chick. We can cut through Colorado on our way to Albuquerque." He handed Sam his laptop back.

Sam shook his head. "It's a bad idea. A really bad idea."

"Aww, Sam, don't be shy. She didn't turn you in the first time, there's no reason she'd change her mind. I mean, you did the Winchester name proud, right?" leered Dean.

"Dea-"

Dean held up his hand. "We're going, Sam, don't try to chicken out now. I think this could be good for you, this newfound respect for your elders." He grinned and started walking off. "Not to mention, how cool would it be to have air support on a hunt?"


End file.
